


Roles

by Keenir



Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-31
Updated: 2012-03-31
Packaged: 2017-11-02 19:18:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/372432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keenir/pseuds/Keenir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just because you're plotting, doesn't mean you're paranoid.</p>
<p>(coda to <span class="u">Island of Dreams</span>)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Roles

Rosalee stopped before she answered the door. There was no Blutbad smell, nor a Grimm stink. No, this odor was other and familiar: There was no need to shift faces: even before she opened the door, she knew who she was seeing. "Adalind," Rosalee said. "No sisters today?"

"They're both dead," Adalind said.

"I'd offer condolences if it meant anything."

"I don't want your hollow words. I would like to talk to you."

"Well, this is a change," Rosalee said. "You can come inside if you promise not to do anything to my brother's house."

"It wouldn't be worth the time," Adalind said.

Rosalee accepted that as a concession that the house was safe. She closed the door once Adalind was inside. "What brings you by?" Rosalee inquired.

"I was curious," Adalind said, folding herself down to sit on the couch. "Yes, a Blutbad boyfriend now? You were always good at getting close."

"I had a good teacher, Adalind," Rosalee said.

"A puppy underfoot is bound to pay attention."

"Wow, less has changed than I thought. Goodbye," Rosalee said, going for the door.

"Wait," Adalind said.

Rosalee paused, watching the Hexenbeast in her late brother's living room.

Adalind calmly returned her gaze.

"If there's something _civil_ you want to say..." Rosalee said.

"Are you going to take my role from me?" Adalind asked flatly. She didn't ask 'are you going to take my job'... _jobs_ were what one did in human society. One's _role_ was the position held in Wesen society.

"Nothing's been offered," Rosalee said.

"You avoided answering."

"It was a stupid question."

"It needs to be answered," Adalind said.

"If I answer Yes, you'll believe me and plot. If I answer No, you'll refuse to believe me, and plot," Rosalee said. "It doesn't matter which of them is the truth - you'll do the same thing either way."

"Not necessarily," Adalind proffered.

"I'm glad to hear it."

"Join with me. I'll give you my role if I can rise higher."

"Make a move against the lord of the canton?" Rosalee asked. "I learned not to do shit like that."

"He relies on me, and he's looking to you," Adalind said.

"He spoke to me in the police station. Nothing happened," Rosalee said. _Aside from him telling me not to tell Nick about him._ "Perfunctory and ritual, nothing more."

"Then why are you still here? You've made no moves to leave once your dear departed brother is buried. You could appoint someone to handle the sale of the tea shop."

Rosalee didn't reply. She knew how easy it would be to fall into a trap where those two topics were concerned.

"The Blutbad?" Adalind asked, her voice eerily mistakable for fascinated and chipper, even perky.

_If I answer Yes,_ Rosalee knew, _Monroe's life will be a bargaining chip for dealing with me. If I answer No, they'll threaten Monroe's life just to see if I'm lying._ "A handy intermediary."

"Oh?"

"The Grimm," Rosalee said.

"You always enjoyed walking on the wild side. Danger was one more drug."

"What greater hazard than being with a Grimm," Rosalee half-said, half-asked.

_And there is no way my lord would want a sleeps-with-Grimms as his 2IC,_ Adalind thought triumphantly. "The Blutbad being for if anyone enquires, then."

"You're as intelligent as ever, Adalind."

"Yes. That and your life experiences have taught us both caution." Adalind stood up, "Well, I won't take up any more of your time."

"Feel free to call next time," Rosalee said, opening the door for her.

"Where would be the rememberances in that?" Adalind jested.

And as her old acquaintance was getting back in her car, Rosalee mused, _Let me think...do I want Adalind's head on a platter or on a pike?_


End file.
